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This is set in the early 1900's; Edward is a child, around four or five years of age.
He lives with his grandmother, this story is told from her perspective, of how she lost everything, however, gaining very few luxuries, no matter how temperamental.
Here the story starts, and must end, much the same way…
I sat, and looked out the window, little Edward was running in between the statues. His Bronze hair, was the same messy state as I had found it this morning, I had combed through it, untangling nothing, but smoothing its untidiness to perfection.
I looked at the infamous Blue statue, that haunted my dreams, if he wanted you, you would be gone forever, luckily for Edward, the Blue statue thought nothing of him, or myself for that matter, we were too different from his collection.
I know the Blue statue this is his story…
Once I was a foolish girl, I was young and did not have the wisdom I hold now, I had a lover, but he did not love me, and neither did I love him, we were bound together because there was no one else, he loved my Body, he loved the way I could always look beautiful, but we both knew, I would grow old, and so would he, we would go our own ways, those paths where already being set in motion.
I remember a new boy coming to town, I remember because the day changed my life, from the unpleasant Peter Crawford.
I soon fell in love with Philip Masen. I told Peter of my findings, and that would mean, I would be married in just a couple of weeks, Peter was most annoyed at my loyalty to Philip, but he was lost at my love, and how I cared for him.
I told him that this was the day we had been waiting for, the day where our paths no longer intertwined.
He was now left with no one; I on the other hand, was in love for the first time, my mother laughed when I told her.
No one is ever sure on what happened to Peter Crawford. How he became the monster that haunts me, and turns any of my dreams into nightmares.
There are of course rumors, one tells of fairies, others say of Rats, but I believe he was lost in sorrow, and was in so much pain because of it, I believe he found someone to share the pain with, someone with power, I believe Peter probably mocked them, jokingly of course, but his new lover, his pain sharer, took it as I used to, however, instead of slapping him round the face, like I.
His pain sharer turned him to stone, and made it so he could inflict the pain, he had inflicted upon her.
All I know now is that he takes my family, and turns them to white stone, so still, perfected, and beautiful, but taken none the less.
I was too old, to be taken like the others, and Edward is far too young.
I knew most of my family, people who I new and loved were taken at the age of 17 or 18 years at the most, I hoped Edward would be gone before he was 15 years of age, and would never return afterwards. Not even for my end in life. For my pain to finished.
My name is Elsa Maybelle Masen; I had a sister Dora, who passed away. My brother Benito, is sick, and prays death is near.
I have outlived my siblings; these two, are the only ones I remember, they are only two out of fifteen births that my mother had.
My children are stone statues, I have lost almost everything I loved in life, and I killed a man, by loving my late husband.
The man who's ruined my life is called Peter Crawford.
My husband passed away, and left me with his daughter, she was a fully-grown woman. Her name was Elizabeth Masen; she had these electric green eyes, they would capture you in a different world, she was beautiful, loved by all, and grieved for by all, at her bodiless funeral. Edward had the same electric eyes as his mother; they would search your soul, just to find an answer.
As far as Edward new, his mother had died of the Spanish influenza, in Chicago, two years ago.
He hasn't noticed the statue of a woman crouched down with her arms stretched out, welcoming a child. She is by the front gates. Elizabeth tried to get away, but he got her. She was the right age, for him to keep in the collection; two of my children are on the entrance to the woods.
In my room, is a painting of them, just before he got them; it was like he waited until I had them painted, so the pain was inflicted more because I would remember them.
He wants to cause me the most pain possible, that's why he'll take Edward from me. My last Heir. His last victim. His Job, will be done, and he'll then be able rest in peace.
I sit now in the front living room, reading to Edward. He looked sad, I finished the small book; we sat in front of the old fireplace.
"How does this home keep clean grandmother?" so polite, he did not no his fate, no one ever did. Only two had known, one was now stone.
I had told Elizabeth, she ran and now this boy was left motherless.
"I don't know Edward," I said honestly. "Maybe the statues clean through the house, whilst we sleep, like fairy's look after the garden, just how, when you breathe on a cold day, you look like a dragon"
"Yes, I may try to believe that grandmother"
"Good, now we must get to sleep, we must before the pixie's come out to play" I was worried; Edward had noticed how this old mansion had always stayed in the same state.
In some ways it was a curse, in others, it was helpful, I could not afford the whole pound to get people in. it was much too expensive.
He held my hand to his bedroom, where I scrubbed his knees clean once more; the bristles were sore and harsh against his soft pale skin.
I looked up at him; he passed me the soap, as I cleaned his legs.
Then he got himself ready for Bed, as I lit his fire.
Edward lived in a turret in the mansion, and it was a beautiful circular room. I sometimes put some hot milk and biscuits on his little mantle piece.
This used to Elizabeth's room. Her little sheepskin rug is still here.
I came in here, just after I lost her; she was standing there, looking over her child, on her little rug.
She smiled warmly at me.
"He wanted me mother, he got me. I was at fault for running from my problem; my pain is in watching my child grow with out me. He must never know about me mother. Never, you must keep him safe, from me. I am almost like a puppet on strings, but I'm off duty."
"It's alright, I shall look after him like my own son, dear daughter of mine"
She nodded her head, a silent tear, wound down her face, resting on her chin, she smiled at me in reassurance, and the tear fell, it landed on the sheepskin rug.
Then she disappeared, I see her sometimes, in the kitchen, cooking, her famous biscuits, or making a loaf of bread.
At night, they come to life, the sun freezes them, and so they still need a bathroom, food and water.
I leave the ingredients out for them; I leave the bathroom as clean as I can for them, and in return they clean the house, fix broken tiles on the roof, or just tidy through the house.
They are grateful for what they own, and they know I will be soon, be joining my husband, where you should go, once your life has been lived to the full.
Please review, I have a good feeling bout this…
RXR
As always
nessie
hope to hear from ya soon!!